Page 39 of The Last Session

Karen and Mikki: two such incredibly different people coming to this retreat. What would the others be like?

“So no driver?” Mikki looked around, playing with her necklaces. “Should we call them? It’s after three thirty.”

“Ladies, you came from New York, right?” Karen nodded at the electronic sign over the baggage claim. “This land has its own rhythms. I’d suggest going with the flow this weekend. It’ll all turn out fine.”

“I’m sure it will.” Mikki settled next to me, smirking. “I’m just starving.”

Karen opened her large leather purse. “You want some almonds?”

Fifteen minutes later, after Mikki had eaten the rest of Karen’s reserves and was wondering aloud about heading to a nearby restaurant and having them pick us up there, a girl with bright orange hair ran into the baggage claim. She grasped a faded posterboard sign that saidTHE CENTERin thick Sharpied letters. “Hi! You’re here for the retreat, right?”

“Yep!” Mikki jumped to her feet.

“Great.” The woman—twentysomething and cute, with the ability to pull off highlighter-bright hair dye—grinned at us. “I’m Grace. Come with me.”

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“How’s everyone today?” Grace threw over her shoulder as she hurried us into a parking lot. She was tan, although white lines crisscrossed her upper back. She wore a tight camisole and baggy green pants. With her freckles and wide smile, she looked like a friendly and popular girl you might see at a liberal arts college.

“Great!” Karen cried.

“Awesome. What’s everyone’s name?” As we introduced ourselves, she led us towards a shiny white SUV. The license plate saidLAND OF ENCHANTMENT, which I somehow recognized as the state motto. The sun landed on my neck like a warm hand, and I held my face up to the light. God, it felt nice here.

Grace opened the side door but tapped obliviously at her phone while Karen struggled to heft her bag inside. I rushed forward to help.

“Thanks, hon.” She climbed in carefully. Mikki hauled her bag in after.

“You want to sit up front?” Grace asked.

“Sure.” I sank into the leather seat, inhaling the too-sweet vanilla air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Grace turned the car on and pop music blasted. She turned it down and pulled out.

“So you and Mikki flew in from New York, right?” She slipped on a pair of aviators. I was momentarily distracted by the landscape—even as we drove by big-box stores, those mountains beyond planted us firmly in a new land. And that sky! The blue was so vivid it glowed.

“Yup.” I turned to her. “The weather here’s way better. What is it—seventies?”

“Yeah, it’s been warm this week.” Grace chuckled. “Spring is nice, but it gets cold at night.” She drummed her fingers on the wheel; the silver nail polish had mostly flaked off.

“How long have you been at the Center?” Might as well start to dignow. We passed a bench with a sign on the back:WANNA GET TO KNOW GOD BETTER?

“It’s been a while.” She drove surprisingly aggressively, cutting off a car that didn’t even honk. “A couple years.”

That was vague. “How did you come to work there? Did you know—Moon and Sol?” My tongue faltered over the names, which felt slightly ridiculous to say out loud.

“Nope, I came for a retreat, just like you.” She grinned. “And I never left.”

Well, that was cult-y. “That’s great.”

“Trust me.” She shook her head. “You’re not going to want to leave either.”

Mikki leaned forward. “What are you guys talking about?” Beside her, Karen was scrolling on her phone.

“Just how incredible the Center is.” Grace beamed back at Mikki a few seconds too long for my comfort. I clutched the sides of my seat, and she finally turned to the road. “First time for both of you—all of you—right?”

“Right.” Mikki tucked back a loc that had slipped in front of her face. “Is it just women coming?”

“Oh no.” Grace shook her head. “We have two guys. They flew in this morning.”

“How many altogether?” Mikki asked.

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